Sticks and Stones: The Tools of Revenge
by BananaLollypop
Summary: In which Thénardier finally catches up with his oldest daughter and Enjolras is going out of his mind with worry: with very good reason... Part 7 in my 'What if... Enjolnine' series. R&R appreciated more than man's greatest treasure!


**AN: **Good very very early morning! It's 2:10 am for me, but I just had to finish this stupidly long chapter; I couldn't bare to go a day without updating! This one takes a bit of a darker turn, and so is rated T for themes and a naughty word or two

Prompt: What if Thénardier got his revenge on Éponine for ruining his raid on the Rue Plumet and how would Enolras react? Enjoy! (If that's the right word...)

* * *

"Azelma!" Éponine said happily, seeing her sister waiting in the cafe where they had agreed to meet for lunch. She wrapped her younger sister in a hug, "How are you?"

"I'm..." she looked Éponine up and down, "A lot worse off than you by the looks of it! Did you actually get off with that bourgeois boy you were always talking about?!"

"I did not 'get off' with anyone," Éponine said, sitting opposite her sister at a table, "And it wasn't Marius who I got off with either."

"So you _did_ get off with someone?" Azelma said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"I am now in a committed relationship, if that's what you mean." Éponine smiled excitedly.

"Who is he, what does he do and is he as good looking as the other one."

"You'll make fun of me if I tell you who he is!" Éponine frowned.

"I will not!" Azelma protested, "Come on, 'Ponine, just tell me!"

Éponine sighed, "Fine," she said grudgingly, "You know Enjolras?"

"Not at all," Azelma shrugged, "Who is he?"

"He's the one who lead the whole... barricade revolution?" Éponine said. Azelma's eyes widened.

"So you _did_ get off with a bourgeois boy!" she laughed hysterically, "Who would have thought it! Our 'Ponine, getting off with a bourgeois boy!"

"For the last time, I didn't get off with him!" Éponine hissed, "He saved my life!"

"Of course he did," Azelma replied, "Really, 'Ponine, do you really believe that I'm that gullible?!"

"I'm not lying, 'Zelma!" Éponine said, frowning, "Marius was being an idiot, and someone aimed a gun at him. I got in the way of the bullet. If it hadn't been for Enjolras' persistency to not just let me die, I wouldn't be here right now!" Azelma frowned, searching Éponine's face for any hint of a lie and finding nothing but sincerity.

"Christ, Éponine!" she said, "Did you have some kind of death wish?!"

"I didn't really think it through," Éponine muttered, "Marius was in danger and I had to help him..."

"And yet you're now with this revolutionary leader?" Azelma raised her eyebrows again, "How did that happen?!"

"Like I said, Enjolras saved my life," Éponine smiled at the memory of Enjolras carrying her through the rain, letting her complain about his persistency and just laughing it all off, "And besides, Marius is with Cosette. They're getting married in a few weeks."

"Cosette?!" this was, apparently, news to Azelma, "Cosette's here? In Paris? And she's marrying a bourgeois boy?"

"She's reasonably high up in society herself!" Éponine laughed, "Love at first sight is how her relationship with Marius started."

"Eugh, how typically perfect..." Azelma scoffed.

"Hey, she's not as bad as Mama and Papa made her out to be," Éponine scolded her sister, "You were only a baby when she was living with us anyway."

"I was four!" Azelma argued, "That is hardly a _baby_. _Gavroche_ was a baby!"

"That isn't the point," Éponine told her, "The point is that she's really nice and kind and the only flaw she really has is talking about her wedding too much."

"Oh so she does have a flaw?!" Azelma acted shocked, "That really is a surprise!"

Éponine frowned, "How are Mama and Papa?" she asked, thinking it best to just change the subject to avoid a full-blown argument.

"They're fine." Azelma said. Éponine was expecting her to say more, but her sister stopped short, suddenly becoming edgy and a lot less talkative.

They ate their dinner in near silence, only conversing to ask how the other's food was. When they'd finished, Azelma almost went off without even saying goodbye.

"You've been really quiet today," Éponine said as she noticed that her sister was about to leave, "I haven't seen you in two months... I thought you might have a lot to tell me."

"No, no," Azelma said hastily shaking her head, "Nothing's happened really. It's all the same. Papa is still robbing, Mama is still helping. That's it really. I have to go, I don't want to be late. I'll see you soon, Éponine!" she said, before running off down the street.

"'Zelma!" Éponine called after her sister, but Azelma kept running, leaving Éponine alone at the table.

* * *

Enjolras on the other hand was at home, doing his best to tutor Courfeyrac for their upcoming exam. Enjolras was getting increasingly frustrated by Courfeyrac's apparently non-existent attentions span when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Sighing irritably, he abandoned an almost sleeping Courfeyrac at the table and opened the door. Combeferre had entered with Gavroche laughing on his back before Enjolras had ever considered saying 'come in'. He frowned at the two of them.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, shutting the door, "We're trying to work."

"By the looks of it, you're the one working and Courf's the one sleeping!" Combeferre chuckled. In response, Enjolras picked up a cushion from the sofa and launched it at Courfeyrac's head. the student leapt to his feet, knocking the chair he had been sitting on over in the process. Gavroche and Combeferre were in fits of laughter, Gavroche actually rolling around on the floor, as Enjolras just looked smugly at his now terrified friend.

"Did you enjoy your nap, Courfeyrac?" Enjolras asked amusedly.

"That... that was mean, Enjolras!" Courfeyrac muttered, breathing heavily, "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

"Good!" Enjolras said, "That was my intention! Now, are you going to finish you revision, or did you really come here to use my dining table as a pillow?"

* * *

Éponine sat at the table for almost an hour after her sister had left, thinking about the strange way Azelma had acted. Yes, she had never been the most outgoing of children, and she often just gave in and did what she was told (unlike Éponine for the most part). But her sister had always been able to talk to her, about anything.

And Éponine just couldn't shake the feeling that Azelma had been hiding something.

When she finally left the cafe (after having received some rather annoyed looks from the owner who thought she was just taking advantage of the table), she made her way back home, taking her usual route.

That was her first mistake.

She walked down the street from the cafe, bumping into Bahorel, who was on his way to the cafe she's just left. She stood and talked with him for a few minutes before saying her goodbyes and carrying on. She reached an alleyway between two now abandoned blocks of flats, and, still following her usual route, walked down it.

That was her second mistake.

She spotted the figure of a man leaning against the wall at the far end of the alley. She slowed her walk slightly, hoping that he'd leave before she reached him; it was almost dark, and she knew all too well what some of the men in Paris were like on the streets at night.

This was her third, final and arguably worst mistake.

Slowing down, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. In the time it took for her to glance around and recognise one of the ghastly brutes from her father's gang, the man at the other end of the alley had also started advancing towards her. She was trapped between them with nowhere to run or hide and nothing to fight them off with other than her bare hands.

More men closed in around her and her breath hitched in her throat as she recognised her father among the crowd.

"Well, look who it is, lads!" he father sneered, "Dear old 'Ponine! Haven't seen you in a while. We all reckoned you'd got yourself killed on the barricade. They we started spotting you, out and about, always hanging off the arm of that revolutionary sod."

"Go away, Papa." Éponine snarled, backing up against the wall of one of the buildings.

"Ah, but don't you remember, 'Ponine?" Montparnasse said, his voice deadly, "You ruined our raid on that old man's house all those weeks ago. 'I'll scream' you said-"

"And I'll scream again!" Éponine said defiantly, "I have friends around here, Montparnasse, one shall hear me!"

"Ah, but you forgot!" Montparnasse continued, "Because what did your dear Papa reply, 'Ponine?"

"I'll make you scream." Thénardier whispered almost gleefully.

"Leave me alone!" Éponine demanded, trying to stop her voice shaking.

"But that isn't going to happen, 'Ponine, " Montparnasse said, running a filthy finger down the side of Éponine's face. She jerked her head away from him, "Because, you see... you _belong_ to us. Always have, always will... and we're getting tired of your silly little games."

"Enough playing, Montparnasse," Thénardier muttered, "You may be unattached, but you heard my wife. I'm not risking any part of my body for this brat. Do what you wish with her, and then we leave."

"I'll scream!" Éponine said once again, "I'll alert some-"

She stopped short as her father brought a knife to your throat, "One more sound out of you, and I will make sure you never utter another word." He said brutally.

As the other men started closing in, Éponine looked around desperately for a way out, but seeing nowhere. She closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her face as a fist collided with her stomach. She doubled over and another blow to her head knocked her to the floor.

"You see, Éponine, this is what happens to the people who go against what we say," he father sneered. A boot hit home on her ribs as another collided with her back and Éponine gasped for breath, "_This_ is what happens when you disobey us."

"Stop," she choked out, "Please!"

Montparnasse bent down, grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her face closer to his.

"We've barely even started 'Ponine," he growled, "When we're finished with you, you won't have it in you to beg for mercy."

* * *

Enjolras paced around the apartment, trying to organise the chaotic thoughts pounding through his head.

Éponine had said she'd be home from dinner with her sister by eight. Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Gavroche had left at quarter to eight, heading to the Musain to socialise. Enjolras had said he would follow when Éponine returned home.

Eight had struck, and his beloved was not yet back. He hadn't been worried; she hadn't seen her sister in months after all, and they needed time to catch up.

Half past eight had passed, and Enjolras was still alone in their flat. He was slightly concerned, but not so much worried; Éponine was probably on her way home right that second.

When it reached nine o'clock, he had started to worry. As the minutes ticked past nine and towards ten, it went from worry, to severely anxious, to downright panic.

Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed his coat, left the apartment as ran all the way to the Musain to see if Éponine had perhaps gone straight there to meet him.

He practically burst through the doors, scanning the room desperately for her dark hair or her sparkling eyes, listening out for her captivating laugh.

"Here he is! Finally coming to join us!" Courfeyrac laughed.

"Have any of you seen Éponine?" he asked, concern clear in his voice.

"She isn't home yet?" Combeferre asked, frowning.

"Would I be asking if she was?" Enjolras snapped.

"Look, calm down, she's probably just running late," Marius said.

"Half an hour late I'd be able to accept," Enjolras said through gritted teeth, "An hour and a half? No one can be that late accidentally. No... something's happened."

"Right, come on everyone," Grantaire, unbelievably not completely drunk, said, grabbing his jacket, "We've got an Athena to find."

Everyone followed his lead, leaving drinks half-drunk on the table and picking up jackets and coats.

Gavroche came running over from the other side of the room, "Where're you lot going?!" the group looked at each other, trying to silently decide what to tell Gavroche. Everyone but Enjolras that is.

"Éponine's not home yet," he said, "I think something's happened. We're going out to look for her." Gavroche's face hardened.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?!" he demanded, running out of the cafe. Enjolras ran after him, the rest of the Amis hot on his heels.

* * *

Éponine dragged her nearer to the wall and into a sitting position, gasping in pain as she leant her back against it. Tears streamed down her face and she dragged in breaths, trying to ignore the excruciating pain radiating from her chest. She had welts and gashes from Montparnasse's belt covering her arms and legs; she supposed she should count herself lucky that the bastard had kept his trousers up.

She sat in silence, not being about to make a sound, tears falling freely down her face, silently begging someone to help her. She could already feel the little strength she had left draining out of her.

She wished one more time for a saviour, for her beloved Enjolras to once again carry her to safety in his arms. Then she closed her eyes, and they stayed closed, the last of her energy leaving her.

* * *

Enjolras and the Amis searched the streets desperately, asking anyone and everyone they passed if they had seen Éponine. They kept receiving the same answers:

"Sorry, monsieur, I haven't seen her tonight."

Enjolras was being driven insane. None of the Amis knew what they could do to calm him, except for finding Éponine before the matter worsened.

Gavroche wasn't much better than their despairing leader, tearing through the streets without even thinking to wait for one of the Amis. The students had no idea as to where he had disappeared to, so they continued searching, hoping that they would run into Gavroche later.

Grantaire and Enjolras, with the most knowledge of the backstreets of the area, took to search the alleys and the pathways that were barely noticeable, as the others asked around on the main streets and in the few shops and cafes that were still open.

Eventually, Courfeyrac and Joly bumped into Bahorel in the cafe were Éponine had earlier been situated.

"Bahorel!" Courfeyrac called out, catching his friend's attention. Bahorel came over.

"Good evening!" he said cheerfully, "Finally branching out from that single cafe you always go to?"

"No," Joly said seriously, "We're looking for Éponine. Have you seen her?"

Bahorel frowned, "Earlier tonight, yes," he told them, "Just as she was leaving this cafe actually. We spoke for a few minutes, then she said she had to get home."

"What time?" Courfeyrac prompted hastily.

"Erm... it must have been gone eight... quarter past at a guess."

"Thanks, Bahorel!" Courfeyrac said before dragging Joly away from the cafe. Everyone seemed to meet at that point in the street at that moment.

"Bahorel said that Éponine left this cafe at quarter past eight," Joly told them, Which way would she have-"

"Amis! Amis!" Gavroche's cries came from behind them, "Éponine took her normal way home! She's got to be around here somewhere!"

"How do you know, Gavroche?" Marius asked, frowning.

"She's been attacked!" he said breathlessly, "I found Azelma crying on a street corner. She said that she'd told our father which way Éponine went home. They were supposed to have been intercepting her." He started running further down the street, "She's got to be here somewhere!"

The rest of the Amis sprung into action, running down side streets and alleys, calling Éponine's name.

It was Combeferre and Courfeyrac who spotted her, just as Enjolras and Grantaire appeared at the opposite end of the alley Éponine usually took home.

"Éponine!" Enjolras cried, running up to where her battered body was up against a wall. Combeferre reached her at the same time as Courfeyrac called to Joly. Combeferre gently pushed Enjolras out of the way, feeling for a pulse.

"She's still alive," he said thankfully, "But her pulse is getting weaker. We need to get her somewhere where we can treat her properly."

"Back to our apartment," Enjolras managed to say, his face pale, frozen to the spot with the sheer shock and worry or finding Éponine in such a state. Joly nodded in agreement, before running off to get some supplies from his own flat.

Seeing that Enjolras was unable to help, Combeferre lifted Éponine into his arms and led the way back to Enjolras' flat, the seemingly unshakable revolutionary leader being guided along behind.

* * *

In the state of panic Enjolras had left his flat in, he had forgotten to lock the door, and so Combeferre and Joly wasted no time in entering and going through to the bedroom.

Enjolras, now coming to his senses slightly followed them in, ignoring Grantaire when he said that he should 'give them some space to help her'.

He crouched by the side of the bed and took Éponine's hand in his. Combeferre and Joly didn't have the heart to make him move, and so they worked around him.

By the early hours of the morning, Enjolras was almost zombie-like, dark rings having suddenly appeared around his eyes and his eyelids drooping, the hours of emotional trauma taking their toll. Joly and Combeferre were still working, cleaning and dressing Éponine's wounds and checking every so often to see if her lungs had been punctured by any of her many broken ribs.

Just as Enjolras was about to collapse from exhaustion, Marius and Grantaire, picked him up and supported him as he stumbled into the spare bedroom; the room that Éponine had recovered in two short months earlier.

The rest of the Amis sat around in the living area, Courfeyrac sitting on one end of the sofa with a sleeping Gavroche in his lap, Marius at the other end of the sofa, and Feuilly and Grantaire at the dining table, all of them anxiously waiting for Combeferre or Joly to emerge from the bedroom. Enjolras had rejoined the Amis after a mere two hours sleep, stating that he couldn't rest knowing the state that Éponine was in, but unable to force himself to go back into the bedroom.

It was beginning to get light when the two Amis finally came out. They both looked exhausted and like they were about to collapse themselves, but they smiled reassuringly.

"She's out of immediate danger," they told them. Enjolras practically fainted from sheer relief, leaning on the kitchen worktop to support himself. Without another word, he ran back into the bedroom, kissing Éponine's forehead tenderly, before retaking his position at her side.

As Joly and Combeferre went home to sleep for a few hours, the Amis took it in turns to sit with Enjolras and Éponine. They practically had to force Enjolras to eat his breakfast, which therefore took the form of a piece of bread eaten at Éponine's bedside.

Several times Éponine stirred in her sleep, muttering indistinguishable words under her breath, twitching every so often as if she was having a nightmare. Whilst he was there, Enjolras sung to her, memories of the last time his beloved had feared for her life flooding back.

Joly and Combeferre arrived just after lunch to check on her. The other Amis still resided in Enjolras' flat, waiting for the time when Éponine was completely out of danger and they could all rest easier knowing that their friend was safe.

Combeferre checked all of the dressings and reported that most of the wounds had finally stopped bleeding. Joly was also satisfied that Éponine's lungs were not in danger of being punctured; she was going to be fine, despite that daunting recovery period ahead.

This news hit Enjolras like a ton of bricks. The shock was unbelievable and he could not stop thanking his friends for saving Éponine's life. An enormous weight was finally lifted off his shoulders as he kissed Éponine's hand fondly.

Joly left Enjolras with instructions for how to look after Éponine when she woke up, and Combeferre wrote them down, knowing that, chances were, Enjolras hadn't listened to a world Joly had said.

One by one the Amis had said their goodbyes, promising to return later or tomorrow. Only Courfeyrac and Gavroche stayed, Gavroche refusing to leave until he had heard his sister talk, and Courfeyrac not wanting to leave Gavroche in Enjolras' company when the leader had eyes only for Éponine.

Gavroche did not have to wait too long; just as the sun was setting and evening was replacing the afternoon, Éponine groaned, her eyes fluttering open. Enjolras was immediately alert.

"'Ponine?" he said, barely daring to believe that she was awake once more, "Athena?"

"Enjolras?" she croaked, her throat dry and her chest still ridiculously painful, "What...?"

"Your father." Was all Enjolras had to say, the venom in his voice unmistakable. Éponine understood immediately as Enjolras helped her sit up.

After a series of cries and gasps of pain, Éponine was in a sitting position, Enjolras offering her a mug of water as Gavroche, hearing his sister's pain-filled voice, burst into the room.

"Éponine!" he cried happily, running around to the opposite side of the bed as Enjolras. Éponine laughed, but regretted it immediately as a fresh wave of pain erupted from her chest. Enjolras comforted her, as Gavroche looked on worriedly. Noticing her brother's concerned look she smiled.

"I'm fine, Gavroche." She told him. He smiled slightly.

"You don't look it," he told her honestly.

"Don't judge a book by its cover." She scolded him playfully.

"I swear, 'Ponine, soon as I'm big enough I'm going to make Papa suffer as much as he made you." Gavroche said, his tone hard and angry. Éponine's hatred for her father and his gang was too strong for her to tell Gavroche not to.

"And in the mean time," Enjolras muttered, fantasising about all the evil things he could do to Thénardier, "I'd be more than happy to destroy his pathetic little life..." Éponine rested a hand on his face, snapping him out of his daydream.

"I'd rather I was in one piece again before you start destroying anyone." She said. Enjolras kissed her properly for the first time in what felt like forever, before turning to Courfeyrac.

"Can I have my weapons back yet?" he asked. Courfeyrac grinned.

"Like 'Ponine said," he told him, "Let's get her well again first. Then I'll be by your side as you rip his life to pieces." Enjolras nodded his thanks, sliding up onto the bed next to Éponine. She rested her head gratefully on his shoulder.

"Are you two going to kiss again?" Gavroche asked, making a face, "Because if you are, can you wait for me to leave the room? It's quite disgusting." Enjolras chuckled and Éponine smiled (containing her laughter to avoid any further pain).

That night, Enjolras and Éponine slept side by side, Enjolras still in the sitting position he had been earlier on in the evening, Éponine's head in his lap, pain forgotten as she slept peacefully with her Apollo.

Enjolras on the other hand slept more fitfully, unable to get the man who almost killed his beloved out of his head. As he forced his thoughts away from Thénardier, another thought replaced them:

_No one shall hurt Éponine ever again_.

And, making that thought his driving force to not only get justice for Éponine, but also to create a better France and for how Enjolras himself lived his life, he also slept, happy to have his Athena in the safety of his arms once more.

* * *

**If you got through all of that, I applaud you! It was ridiculously long and dark in places, but Éponine got her saviour in the end :') Feel free to throw me a prompt if you've got one, pretty please review (each and every one of them makes my day!) and I apologise for any typos; sleep deprived me cannot be bothered to proof-read :P Thanks for reading!**


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